


The (Unhappily) Virginal Milkmaid & The (Well-Hung) Stable-Wolf

by kestra_troi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Body Hair, Brief Mention of Polyamory, F/M, Fake Historical AU, Mention of Knotting, Milkmaid Stiles, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Ridiculous, Seduction, Shameless Smut, Short One Shot, Size Difference, Size Kink, Stableboy Derek, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is Silliness Wrapped Up In Smut, Werewolf Derek, Werewolves as Slaves, Why Did I Write This?, girl stiles, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4589217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kestra_troi/pseuds/kestra_troi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic is just a short (drabble-ish) oneshot of some odd, faux-historical Sterek. PWP. </p>
<p>Basically Stiles wants Derek and then they have sex because reasons. The End.</p>
<p>This is NOT a serious work. At all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The (Unhappily) Virginal Milkmaid & The (Well-Hung) Stable-Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot was inspired by a scene in the movie musical The Producers. Two characters in the film briefly do a role-play as a milkmaid and a stable boy. Why that triggered this fic I don’t know, but here you go. I hope you enjoy!

 

It was well known in Beacon Hills that Lord Argent kept Wolves in his stable though such things were technically illegal. Nobody in the Province made a fuss about it though if they wanted to stay among the living for much longer. For Stiles the legality of the thing didn’t matter, in fact she was rather pleased with Lord Argent’s criminal aptitude for the very simple fact that because of his transgression she was able to see very shirtless, very sweaty, very muscled, and very well-endowed wolf-men whenever she wanted. Usually whenever her milk route took her past the Lord’s manor or she could devise an excuse to walk past on some other errand. Most times it was the highlight of her week. 

As a matter of fact she often was late in her deliveries because she spent more than a little time ogling the working, straining, sweating wolf-men attend to their labors. One in particular she favored above the rest: the Alpha of the Stables. He was tall, broad, dark haired, and green-eyed; muscled like the other wolf-men, but even more so and hairy all over. He was dark and moody. As far as Stiles could tell; quiet and yet full of expression. Stiles spent more than a few of her nights tucked in bed, enjoying her body, thinking of the rugged, handsome wolf-man in the stables.

The only problem was that the wolf-man never paid her any attention when she walked past the stables on her route. Even when she dared to stop and greet the wolf-men as politely and sweetly as she could, he always responded by shooting her a pensive, rude glare strong enough to make even Stiles second-guess herself; a no easy feat by any means. Despite his cold reply, however, Stiles nevertheless always made of point of saying hello and goodbye to the busy wolf-men and sometimes she even offered them sips from her milk buckets to cool off from the heat of the day. In those cases the Alpha always abstained, much to Stiles’ chagrin. 

But Stiles being Stiles was undaunted. Being ignored wasn’t new to her since she was just a lowly milkmaid, and poor, and more plain than not, as compared to the other women in the village. Not to mention her penchant for causing trouble, creating mischief, and general disregard for propriety. Her pranks and lack of manners had never won her many friends or admirers in her small corner of the world. Not that being lonely bothered her terribly, she had her father and her stepbrother and her stepmother for company and love. 

No, what really bothered Stiles was her pesky virginity. Having over the course of her life alienated and annoyed most of the population of her village she had also apparently annoyed and alienated most every man and boy who could provide her with the very services she desperately wanted. 

At sixteen, near seventeen, and still unbedded was unseemly; her stepbrother had been bedded and wedded by the time he was fifteen and he had been no more popular than she. Besides the fact that he was a boy and she a girl they were basically the same person, who got into the same mischief, and caused the same troubles. But whereas in a boy such actions and traits were, while not laudable, at the very least tolerable, in a girl they were found to be obnoxious, ungodly, sinful, and pathetic.

Stiles had never cared for the opinions of others outside those of her blended family, but in the moment it was costing her and her family dearly. No one to take her virginity, meant no one to marry her, which meant she had to stay at home and be a burden to her parents, which Stiles didn’t like. She wanted to be independent with her own house and her own rules, but to get that she needed a man; she needed to be deflowered. And since the men in the village wouldn’t comply Stiles turned her attention and schemes on the only other men she could get to: the wolf-men in Lord Argent’s stable. 

At first Stiles had plotted to get her hands on one of the Betas since they were more readily available; they always waved to her when she passed by and called her sweet names playful begging for what she would gladly have given up to them at a moment’s notice if she thought they were serious. But none of the Betas, despite their own mouthwatering looks and shapely bulges, could set her heart afire like their Alpha could. She wanted _him_ to be the one to take her. 

In the end it took far longer than Stiles could’ve ever believed and far more effort than anything else she had ever attempted, but she of course succeeded. Where a Stilinski woman put her mind there was simply no escape; what she set out for she achieved. He came upon her like a wild beast, as hungry and desperate for her as she had always been of him. He took her right there in the stables behind a bale of hay with his men milling about pretending not to hear her broken moans and his deep rumbles of pleasure. 

“About fucking time!” She muttered between heated kisses. Her arms fell around his broad shoulders, her legs around his slim waist as he easily tore away her undergarments before undoing his pant strings allowing the measly fabric to fall to the ground leaving him naked in front of her eyes. 

She gasped at his size, passing her eyes over every single glorious inch of his muscled, hairy body. She grew wet for him, as she knew she would and gazed into his eyes as they flashed from green to unnatural red. His scowl was gone and in its place was a feral look of such intense heat and desire Stiles felt completely overwhelmed. She may have swooned onto the hay behind her, her cheeks as red as could be, spreading her legs for him wanting him to take. And take he did. 

With more tenderness than she imagined him capable of, the Alpha worked his sizable manhood inside Stiles until she was full of him beyond anything she had ever felt before. She gasped, and cried, and shook under him as he found his pleasure and gave her hers. She clung to him needy and breathless, feeling on his back the sign of Lord Argent burned into his skin marking him as another man’ property. 

He brought her to completion more times than Stiles dared count while she fell apart under him, drenched in his sweat, covered by his larger bulk. Again and again she screamed with her release sated and yet wanting more, frantic to have everything the wolf-man could give her. 

At last his movements subsided and he roared with his own release. His fangs descended and his eyes shone red as he grew inside of her. Stiles wept for the fullness she felt pulling the shaking man full on top of her even as he filled her with his seed. She came once more shuddering under his weight as he melted into her bosom, held in her arms. “Shit.”

From that day on each time she passed by the stables she would be greeted respectfully by the wolf-men. No more would they bandy lewd words at her though she often sat with them in the stables letting them drink her milk and press their scents into her skin. They memorized her scent and they each all in turn tasted where their Alpha had laid his claim on her. Their searching tongues brought her to her end more than once, but only one wolf-man’s manhood ever penetrated her. Only he was allowed to have her fully. The man that had taken her virginity. The man that had made her a woman. The man that had murmured in her ear as they basked in the glow of physical fulfillment, “My name’s Derek. What’s yours, my little dairy queen?”

“Stiles.” She whispered back.

“Stiles…” He echoed, his voice full of tired contentment and lethargic longing.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this awhile ago, so if you think I missed any important tags let me know and I will update them. :)


End file.
